Frogs
by bluewingedkitty
Summary: “But if Jeb is using the spaghetti pot,” I whispered, eyes wide, “Where are the frogs?” Fang looked at me apologetically. “Just…don’t use the downstairs bathroom right now.” Set 3 years brfore TAE. Cute little idea I had, with the beginings of FAX! Yeah!
1. Max is wet

Frogs

Frogs

**A/N: Um. Well. This is a twoshot inspired by a line in TFW, chapter five. Why a two shot? It was gonna be a one shot, but it got longer, and longer, and longer, and why am I saying this no one cares, I dunno, if anyone else has done it, sorry, I didn't steal your idea, this is a run on sentence, shutting up now. I don't own Maximum Ride, okay? No sue! **

"Can we go for a walk, Jeb?" I asked, lazily stretching my arms. "I'm bored."

Jeb looked up from the laptop. "Yeah, sure, be _careful_, okay?"

I rolled off the couch. "'Kay."

"Where'll you be?"

"The pond," I said immediately. The pond was one of our favorite hangouts. Sure, you have to whack your way through nearly a mile of forest. That is, if you didn't _fly_. By 'walk' I really meant 'fly'. Did Jeb know this? Probably not. Huh. Too bad.

"Be back in an hour," Jeb said, and turned back to typing his _very _important letter.

Now I just had to find the flock. I looked at the clock. 10:09 AM. That meant Nudge would be in bed, Angel probably playing with her stuffed animals, Fang practicing hand to hand combat, Iggy looking for flammable materials in the garage and the Gasman destroying his toy cars by throwing them from great heights. The flock was very predictable.

I decided to tackle the girls first. Barging into their bedroom, I threw open the drapes and patted Nudge awake. "Wha…?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"We're going to the pond," I announced. Angel peeked around her curtain, her blue eyes sparkling, and giggled. "Pond?"

I grinned. "Pond. Are you dressed?" Angel darted behind her little screen. Oh. She wanted to play. "Where's Angel?" I called, pretending to look. I heard a stifled laugh, and yanked her curtain back. "There she is!"

Angel beamed, warming my heart. "Dressed," she said, holding her arms out. I hoisted her onto my hip, and groaned. "Ahh, you're getting heavy."

Angel rolled her eyes. She probably learned that from me. I hoped she wouldn't let Jeb see.

"Don' worry," she said. "Won't. But I'm not getting heavy."

I smiled and tweaked her nose. "You're growing. Get up, Nudge, or we'll eat all of Iggy's bacon," I added and left before she could figure out Iggy wasn't cooking anything. Angel giggled, and tightened her grip around my neck. I wondered absently if cereal would make an okay breakfast. Usually if Iggy wasn't cooking by ten, he wasn't cooking 'till lunch. It was 10:16 AM, according to the hall clock.

Angel leaned in and whispered, "Cereal's fine. Iggy's not cookin'."

"Thanks, sweetie," I whispered back, and plopped her in a chair. I grabbed a bowl, the milk and cereal box, and set them in front of Angel. "You'll be okay?" Angel looked around. "Spoon?"

"Ah." I got one and handed to her. She looked at me and smiled. "Nudge's comin'. Knows there's no bacon. She's mad."

Uh-oh. "I'll be in the garage," I said hurriedly and left. A mad, sleepy and hungry Nudge was not to be reckoned with.

"Iggy?" My brother-by-wings looked up at my voice guiltily.

"What?"

"We're going to the pond. You game?"

"Sure."

"What _are_ you doing?" I asked curiously. He'd popped the hood on Jeb's Hummer, and was tinkering away. "You're not doing anything permanent?"

"Getting oil outta the car," he admitted. "It's REALLY flammable. Don't tell Jeb," he implored.

I sighed. "If Jeb asks, I know nothing. We'll leave after the girls eat. Did any of you guys have anything?"

"Uh, yeah. Cereal."

"Oh, and if you don't want a grumpy Nudge until noon, I'd cook her some bacon. I lied to her to wake her up, and now she's on the warpath." I left Iggy then, opening the garage door.

"Gazzy?" I called. Our flock's five year old looked down.

"Max! Watch this!" He flew straight up and let go of his toy truck. It landed on its nose and bounced around, earning a few more dents. The Gasman folded in his wings and landed. "See? I've been throwing it all morning and it's still working!" He held out the battered car proudly.

"Wow. Impressive," I said. It was a tough car. Most crumpled into unrecognizable pieces of metal the first time they were dropped. "Anyway, we're heading out to the pond. Did you eat?"

"Uh-huh. Hot dog."

I raised my eyebrows. Hot dog? Well, okay.

"You gonna be ready to go?"

"Yep," he said, and, grabbing the car, took off.

Fang was a little harder to find. He was on the fringe of the woods, methodically practicing punches and kicks.

"Hey," I said, touching down, having flown here.

He nodded his head, acknowledging my presence. Would it seriously kill him to say a sentence? Apparently, yes.

"We're going to the pond. You eat?"

Another nod.

"You gonna come?"

Nod.

"Seriously, what do you have against the English language?" I asked, frustrated.

He gave me a lopsided grin, surprising me. "Absolutely nothing."

"Well, use it, then!" I said, recovering from his sudden display of emotion. Gasp.

He grinned again.

I cleared my throat.

"I will use the English Language, ma'am," he said sarcastically, snapping a quick salute.

I swung at him half-heartedly. In two seconds flat, he had me in a headlock. "Don't attack someone who's just been practicing," he advised me.

"I wasn't trying," I said, gritting my teeth. He just laughed. I rolled my eyes, pinched him under the arm,

then stood up, forcing his head back with my hand, taking his balance. He stumbled backward. I caught his arm, and twisted it behind his back. "Don't tease someone with a temper," I replied. I let go and snapped open my wings, and jumped into the sky. By the time he spun around, I was ten feet in the air. "Gotcha!"

"Cheater," he grumbled. I laughed. "See ya in a few."

By the time I'd gotten back to the house, Iggy had heeded my advice and fried Nudge some bacon, which she was munching on happily. "'Fanks, Iggy," she mumbled around her food. Then she spotted me, and her eyes narrowed. "You!"

I smiled unconvincingly. "Me what?"

"You lied! You said there was bacon!"

"And there is bacon. It's in your mouth," I said helpfully. Nudge opened her mouth, but Iggy, sitting next to her and seeing (figuratively) the danger, shoved another piece of dead pig into Nudge's oral cavity. She choked on the unexpected obstruction, and by the time she was done coughing and gagging, I had slipped outside to round up the Gasman, and silently blessing Iggy.

I let the door swing shut behind me, gazing into the sky. It had just occurred to me that nobody was watching the Gasman. Jeb _always_ told us to be careful, and I resolved to always have someone watching the younger members of our family from now on. I hadn't forgotten the School.

With a tiny spark of relief, I saw a large dot hovering about the house. I took a few steps away from the door and leaped up, extending my wings. Lord, I loved my wings. They were the one of the only good things that had come from that hellhole of a science lab, the other being my family. My wings were nearing twelve feet from tip to tip, and dappled with brown. With every stroke I felt the air rush through my feathers. I looped around, only thirty feet from the ground, when I saw the figure of the Gasman soar high about the house and raise his arms, preparing to throw something…onto the roof.

"Gazzy, DON'T!" I shrieked. He looked down guiltily as I banked upwards to meet him.

"Awwhh, but Ma-ax," he whined. Gazzy was good at whining. Only an expert whiner could turn one syllable into two.

"No," I said firmly, grasping his wrist. "We're leaving for the pond, otherwise Nudge might decapitate me."

"Why?" Gazzy asked curiously. "Why's Nudge gonna decati—decata—"

"De-cap-it-ate. Because I lied to her about Iggy cooking bacon."

"Iggy's cooking bacon?" he yelled, wiggling free of my grip, and dive bombing the house, his fun with the truck forgotten.

A low chuckled caused me to spin around in an alarmed way, forgetting to flap for a moment and thus speed towards the roof at a high velocity.

"Fang!" I said furiously as I recognized the figure. I was too close to the roof to take off again, so I tucked my wings closer to my back, running as I touched down so I didn't do a face plant on the shingles. He dropped down next to me. "Hmm?"

"You made me fall," I accused, stretching out my lovely flying appendages and fanning them to cool them down.

"You fell yourself. You shouldn't be so easy to sneak up on, you know."

Finding no argument for this, I extended my left wing and whapped him over the head.

"Hey!"

I smiled slyly and let myself slide off the roof, straight into the garden, landing gracefully on my butt.

"Smooth," came Fang's voice from above. A moment later, he landed neatly next to me. "Show off," I muttered, slapping dirt off me. He smirked, and seized my wrist to help me up. I yanked him to the ground, springing up lightly myself.

"Gosh, I'm sorry," I said, making my eyes wide. He rolled his, and scrambled to his feet. "Come on," he grumbled. "I'm not gonna help if Nudge decides she wants to de-cap-it-ate you."

By eleven, the flock was ready to roll, er, fly. Nudge had elected to not de-cap-it-ate me, and in less than five minutes, we touched down at the pond, one by one. I had carried Angel on the way here by clasping my hands under her arms. She could fly, but only a little at a time.

"Here," I said, holding her out to Iggy. She grabbed his hand and tottered towards the water. "Froggies!" she cried happily. Iggy sighed. The three oldest (me, Fang, Iggy) usually took turns looking after Angel. Fang was carrying her back.

The pond was green with long grass growing at the banks. It was surrounded by trees and inhabited by millions of mosquitoes.

Nudge was walking along the pond edge. "Careful," I called. She looked up and nodded. The shore of the pond disappeared into the water stealthily, so you always had to be alert nearby unless you wanted a shoe full of pond gunk and water.

Gazzy was swooping lazily across the pond, toes skimming the green algae-stuff at the top. Great, I thought. I'll have to clean those when we get back. Again.

Fang was—"Hey," a quiet voice said in my ear. —right behind me.

"Aah!" I jumped a tiny bit and swung around. "Stop doing that!"

"It's fun," he answered with a straight face. I ground my teeth and lunged at him suddenly. Ooh, he was gonna _get _it.

He grinned and caught my hand, ready to twist it into a lock. I dove forward, wrenching my hand free and rolled on the mossy ground. Before I'd gotten up, Fang had grabbed my shoulder and pinned it to the ground. I arched my back and threw him off, rolling to my feet.

"This is fun," he commented. I growled.

"Whatever."

I came at him with a quick little snap kick. He caught my foot, but I was prepared. I let myself fall on my back. Fang, not prepared, ha, stumbled forwards. I shoved my foot in his stomach, then twisted away and stood up. He flashed a quick smile and snapped out his wings. I mimicked him, and we soared over the pond, still sparring.

About three minutes of perpetual motion, Fang angled his wings and dove straight towards the water. "Hey!" I hollered. "Come back here!" But he didn't stop, so I followed. We were about a hundred feet in the air…seventy five….fifty…twenty-five…fifteen…ten…five…

"Sorry, Max!" Fang yelled, as he swooped into a vertical climb.

"Wha—?" I had time to ask coherently before smacking into the water.

It felt as if I had been hit by a freaking _truck_. Ow. I tried to inhale some oxygen before plunging into the pond, but unfortunately I was already underwater and inhaled algae, water insects and scummy pond water instead.

Luckily the pond wasn't deep, only five feet at the deepest portion, and I surfaced nearly instantly, coughing and spitting up water. I kicked out toward the shore and dragged myself onto land.

"So…dead…" I managed to wheeze before another fit of coughing. Nudge looked half-worried/half-amused, as did the Gasman. Iggy looked 100 amused, Fang was grinning darkly, and Angel looked…guilty?

"You okay?" Nudge asked as soon as I could talk.

"That was awesome!" Gazzy said at the same time.

"Wish I coulda seen it," Iggy said wistfully.

"Sorry," Fang said, but he was still grinning.

"Max is wet," Angel observed.

"Yes, sweetie, Max is wet," I said, slicking my hair back. Something flew out of it. Ew. "And Fang is gonna be wet too." Without warning, I grabbed both of his wrists and dragged him backwards into the pond. This was the advantage of being already wet, I reflected. It didn't really matter how much more wet I got.

Fang was trying very hard not to be dragged further into the pond, and was splashing everywhere. I grimaced and bent my knees, then sprang up, Fang dangling by wrists. I didn't have to go high or far, so I was able to haul him a couple feet into the air. By now, we were in about the center of the pond. I gave a powerful stroke of my wings, and managed to get to ten feet into the sky. "Good-bye," I said pleasantly and let go. He yelled, and hit the water with a satisfying _whap._ I hovered momentarily, then dove for shore, as Fang was surfacing.

The flock was finding this highly amusing. "Nice," Nudge said, holding up her hand for a high-five, then hesitated, seeing my hand all green and slimy. Fang hauled himself out of the water. To my disappointment, he didn't seem to have inhaled any pond gunk, but a girl can hope. As soon as he could talk, he wheeled around to face me. "You," he croaked. I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"What was that for?"

"That's a stupid question."

"I was already wet, you didn't have to try and drown me!"

"Oh, but I wanted to," I said with an evil smile.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Drowning me was uncalled for."

"Drowning _me_ was uncalled for! And might I remind you that _you _got me wet first!"

"I didn't get you wet, you got yourself wet. Have better reflexes next time."

"Next time? _Next time_—?"

"Hey, hey, time out," Iggy broke in. "You're sounding like an old married couple."

Fang and I looked at each other, then at Iggy, and then both of us grabbed one of Iggy's elbows and shoved him into the pond. He came up spluttering. "_That_ was uncalled for!" he said indignantly, then coughed up pond water, which made me feel better.

I smiled. "Hey!" I called to the younger set, who were whispering and looking at something by the trees. That was worrying, but Angel distracted me. "I'm gonna be wet on the way home," she noted.

Lucky for us, Jeb was muy occupado with his laptop, and now he was on the phone. "Not this year!" he shouted into the receiver. "They're not ready. Another year, at least!" I raised my eyebrows from the kitchen. Okaaaaaayyy…

"I call shower," I hissed, and with no further ado, I slipped into the hallway to get some clothes.

Twenty minutes, and I was dry, dressed and…done with the shower. I walked down the hallway, noting that there were lots of whispers coming from the kitchen. That sent alarm bells running through my head. _Not good_.

I walked in the kitchen. Five alarmed bird kids standing at the table turned around guiltily. "What's going on?" I demanded.

Fang cleared his throat. "Um, well…"

Nudge gulped. Angel looked…partially responsible. She had this little nervous smile on her face. "_All_ responsible," she corrected.

"What's going on?" I repeated.

There was a pot on the kitchen table, the ones we use to make spaghetti. Right on cue, something splashed inside. Everyone froze. I noted, off topic, that Fang and Iggy were slopping pond crap all over the kitchen tiles.

Whatever was inside the container splashed again. I walked forwards hesitantly until I was standing right in front of the pot. I looked down. Green, slimy, bumpy…

"_FROGS?!"_ I shrieked.

**A/N: Ahhh, part one! Reveiws would be great. Please, guys? I'll give you a preview of part two!**


	2. Don't use the downstairs bathroom

...

Frogs Part 2: "Just…don't use the downstairs bathroom right now."

**A/N: Well, here is part 2! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you all ROCK! And I found out I can review my own story! Cool! Anyway. Oh, and that way you don't have to look up the line in MR4 like one of my reviewers, here it is :**_** Jeb had made that exact face the day he found the frogs in the toilet**_**. On page 21, in the hardcover if you don't believe me. **

"FROGS?!" I repeated, my voice rising an octave. Nudge grabbed my elbow.

"Shh!" she pleaded. That in itself was ironic. Usually, I was the one telling HER to be quiet.

"My frogs," Angel said timidly.

I took a deep breath. Seeing frogs in your house, in a pot that you _use, _in _your_ kitchen was a bit…shocking. "Sweetie?" I said, sitting down, and pulling Angel into my lap.

"Mm-hmm?"

"What were you planning to…do with your…frogs?" I asked carefully.

"Pets," she said confidently. "Jumpy, Spot and Hopper."

"You _named_ them?" I asked in disbelief.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, the thing is…" I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase this. "The thing is, Angel, I don't know how we would feed them."

"Buggies," Angel said easily. "Flies. Skeet-oes. Drag-on flies. Buggies."

I tried again. "Where would we keep them? They need the pond."

"Tank."

I decided to stop beating around the bush. "Angel, frogs aren't happy in cages. Nobody likes cages. Right?"

Angel thought on this for a moment, then her brow cleared. "Read their minds," she told me.

I sighed. "Do we really _need _frogs?"

Angel's expression rapidly changed from carefree to horribly tragic. Her lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. Everyone in the flock winced. We all hated to see her like that.

"Heaven help me," I muttered.

"Max, they're only frogs," Nudge pointed out hesitantly.

"They wouldn't be too much trouble," Gazzy added.

Angel just looked at me with those big, pleading, begging…oh Lord…

I turned to Fang. Please, please, back me up, listen to logic….

"I think we can keep them, Max," Fang said quietly.

Thank you very _much_, Fang. Thanks. A. Lot.

I dropped my head into my hands. Iggy chuckled. Now I had no _choice._

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou—"

"I didn't say yes yet!" I cried, exasperated. Angel just smiled.

"Thank you, Max!"

"Hold on," I said, holding up a hand for emphasis. "One, YOU have to take care of them, got it? No bribing Gazzy. Two, the MINUTE one of those frogs thinks something unhappy, the _second_ they are sad, we're taking them back to the pond, capiche? Don't you _dare_ NOT tell me. Three, don't tell Jeb, because I don't think he'll be too happy. Four, if you can't take care of them, I _will take them to the pond myself_. Okay?"

"Okay." I could tell half my words went in one ear and out the other.

"Great," I said glumly. "Now go find a tank."

**MYOLDPAGEBREAKDIDN'TSHOWUPSOTHISISTHEPAGEBREAK**

I was sitting on one of the MANY pine trees in the area of our house. Seriously, we have unbelievable amounts of pine trees in the Colorado mountains. (**A/N I dunno if this is true, if anyone lives in the Colorado mountains, drop me a line.)**

Anyway, this particular pine tree over looked the canyon under our house, but a little further east. It was really close to the canyon, so if I looked straight ahead, it seemed like the earth dropped away.

I sat still, leaning against the bark, feeling the tree sway with the wind. It was just so _peaceful_. I sighed softly and closed my eyes.

"Max…"

Heaven _forbid _that peace would last.

"What?" I snapped, turning around. No one was there. Great… I launched off the tree and flew a couple feet away, trying to see where the idiotic voice was. Left… no one there…right…nope, no one there either…What. The. Heck.

"Look up."

So I looked up. And who was it? Fang, of course.

"That was funny," he said.

I bit back my colorfully worded reply and swooped back to the tree. "What do you want?"

He didn't reply right away. He sat himself on his own little branch and adjusted himself before he replied.

"You seem a little worried."

How lovely. "Do I?"

My sarcasm went unappreciated. "Yeah, you do."

"Well, Dr. Phil, maybe you can tell me why I'm stressed?"

"You tell me, Max." Fang shifted and looked at me. I'd never noticed how unsettling his eyes were. I looked away. Sarcasm wasn't going to get me out of this. Fang knew me too well, dang it.

"I'm worried about the frogs," I lied. If sarcasm was screwed, I could always _lie_.

"Lying, Max," Fang said calmly. Screw him. "I know what you're worried about, so don't bother."

"Really? Well, by all means, enlighten me!"

"Jeb."

"Jeb?"

"Jeb. You won't tell him about the frogs. You don't quite trust him."

Jeb. "I'm worried about Jeb? Now that you mention it…" I frowned. He was _good_. Was he like, a physic? _I_ didn't know I was worried about Jeb, but now that he brought it up, I realized I had been worried about him all along. Creepy. "Now that you mention it, has he been a bit strange lately?"

Fang nodded. "You'd have to be blind not to have noticed." He paused. "Scratch that, Iggy's noticed it too. Nudge and Gazzy are starting to feel something is off, and Angel is having some trouble reading his mind."

"How do you know that?"

He smiled quickly. "I _watch_, Max," he said sagely.

I raised my eyebrows. "He's been typing and talking on the phone for ages," I said slowly. "And I thought only teenage girls did that."

Fang nodded. "I think something's going to happen. Something big."

We sat quietly, mulling this over.

"Well," I said, breaking the silence and straightening my wings. "I'm starving. Did Iggy cook?"

Fang hesitated. "No. Jeb cooked. He cooked spaghetti."

"Grea—" I began, then froze, my brain working slowly. I turned back to Fang. "But if Jeb is using the spaghetti pot," I whispered, eyes wide, "_Where are the frogs?"_

Fang looked at me apologetically. "Just…don't use the downstairs bathroom right now."

It took a few moments for the proper neurons to connect. Downstairs bathroom: has a leaky shower, not a tub. Sink drain is messed up. That left—"You put the frogs in the _toilet_?"

Fang just looked at me helplessly. "It was Angel's idea."

I stared at him. "Angel put the frogs in the toilet."

He nodded weakly.

"But the frogs can't live in the _toilet_!" I cried. "We need to take them back to the pond ASAP. They haven't even been here a day, and—"

"Hold up," Fang said. "Jeb's being a helicopter parent again. He won't let us out of his sight, that's why he sent me to get you, he's probably freaking right now."

I groaned and smacked my forehead. "We need to get back. Right. Now. The _toilet_!"

**MYOLDPAGEBREAKDIDN'TSHOWUPSOTHISISTHEPAGEBREAK**

_Flashback_:

"Guys, I'm going to cook spaghetti," Jeb called. "Where's the pot?"

Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel looked at each other.

"Crap." Iggy muttered. "Angel, grab the frogs and put them somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't care, anywhere! Gazzy, you and Fang go delay Jeb—"

"What am I s'posed to say?"

"I don't care! Tell him you peed in your pants or something—"

"_Hey!_"

"Make something up! Nudge, get some paper towels and clean up this pond crud. I'll get the pot."

"Why do I have to clean this up, it was you and Fang who got it all over the kitchen floor anyways—"

"I don't—!"

"Care! You don't care, I got that! Can't you at least help?"

Iggy grabbed the pot and dumped it into the sink. "I'll help you as soon as I clean this," he said irritably.

"Forget the _pot_!" Nudge hissed. "What's Jeb gonna think if he sees the pond sludge all over the floor?"

"Okay, fine!"

They could hear the Gasman inventing an excuse from the kitchen. "I peed in my pants!" he exclaimed.

Silence. "No, you didn't, Gazzy."

"He did, Jeb."

"He's five, and his pants are perfectly dry."

"No, they aren't!"

"Yes, they are."

"It, uh, dried?" Fang was clearly struggling.

Iggy rolled his eyes. "Hurry up," he told Nudge. She huffed.

"I'm _done_."

"That's great. Now go!" Iggy grabbed her arm and tugged her after him. She squeaked, and grabbed the Gasman as they passed him.

"We're playing Monopoly!" she yelled to nobody in particular, and the four of them tore down the stairs into the ground floor.

They all forgot the pot.

They found Angel in the bathroom. She was putting the last frog into the…toilet.

Nudge stood there, mouth open. Gazzy just pointed at the toilet. Fang was, as usual, silent.

Iggy could tell everyone was staring at _something, _but he didn't for the life of him know _what_.

"Somebody please tell me what's going on, or so help me, I am gonna—"

"Angel put frogs in the toilet," Nudge said in disbelief.

Just then, Jeb yelled. "FANG! GO GET MAX! NOW!"

**MYOLDPAGEBREAKDIDN'TSHOWUPSOTHISISTHEPAGEBREAK**

Jeb was, as predicted, freaking. He was standing outside peering around anxiously. "Max!" he said as we arrived. "Oh, thank G—where are you going?"

"Bathroom," I called over my shoulder. Fang followed me.

"Fang, where are you going?"

"Uh…"

I glared at him.

"Getting a…"

"Book!" I hissed.

"A book…for…um…Angel," Fang improvised wildly.

Jeb frowned a little, then shrugged. As he turned around to go back to the kitchen, I heard him muttering, and I only caught one word: Erasers.

I spun around to face Fang. One glance at his face told me he'd heard it too. I opened my mouth, but Fang shook his head. _Ignore it_. Frogs. In the toilet. Okay. Bigger fish to fry, Max.

I burst into the bathroom, where Nudge, Angel and Gazzy were all crouched around the toilet. "Angel," I said slowly. "Why did you put the frogs in the toilet?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

I sighed. "Honey, what are we going to tell Jeb?"

"Out of order?"

"He'll want to know why," I said patiently.

Nudge looked at me. "We can't take it back to the pond, Max, Jeb won't let us."

Everyone looked at me, 'cause I guess I was the leader. Grr.

"Let's eat," I sighed. "Brainstorm afterwards."

**MYOLDPAGEBREAKDIDN'TSHOWUPSOTHISISTHEPAGEBREAK**

Dinner was horrible. No one ate anything except Jeb. Nudge looked like she might throw up every time she saw him chewing spaghetti. Iggy had told us that he _definitely not_ washed the pot, thanks to Nudge. Angel got away with eating toast, because she told Jeb she was a "vegitaran" and couldn't eat the meatballs and Jeb bought it as one of her phases. But me, Fang, Iggy were left staring at the spaghetti.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jeb asked for the hundredth millionth time.

"No," I sighed, staring at my plate longingly.

"No," Fang said.

"Definitely not," Iggy muttered, fidgeting with his fork. Nudge just sort of groaned.

Gazzy was humming quietly. "We all know frogs go pop in the microwave, pop in the microwave, pop in the microwave, pop in the microwave, we all know frogs go pop in the microwave, they don't go mm-ah-AH!" (**A/N This is a slightly modified version of a song at a camp I volunteer at.)**

Oh, no.

Angel screamed, "NO MICROWAVE POP FROGGIES!" and stood up on her chair, knocking down her milk in the process. I kicked the Gasman, and I had a feeling that Fang and Iggy did too, because he winced and yelled "Stop KICKING me!" Poor Nudge just looked nauseous.

It would have been funny, except that Nudge threw up.

And guess who had to clean it up?

Ew.

Then Angel insisted that I come and check the frogs with her, and everyone followed.

"Good," Angel said, satisfied. "No pop microwave froggies." She glared at her brother.

"Okay. We'll just leave them here overnight, and first thing tomorrow we're taking them back to the pond. Sorry, Angel. We haven't got anywhere to put them." I turned around and almost walked into Jeb. "Uhhhh…."

"What's going on?" Jeb asked, going full on parent-on-the-warpath mode.

"Uhh…" I repeated intelligently. Jeb sighed and walked around me, and looked down at the toilet. Then back at me. Then at the toilet. It was pretty funny, actually. He had this what-the-heck expression on his face and his mouth was open a bit. I wished I had a camera.

"Whose idea was this?" Jeb asked after he'd gotten over the first shock. We all pointed at Angel, including Iggy, which was kinda creepy. "Angel?"

It took about five minutes to explain the story. When we were done, it looked like Jeb was having a very hard time not laughing.

"Well," Jeb said, then looked down, trying not to smile. "Well, Angel, we're going to have to return the frogs, okay? But they can stay for a couple more days, all right? Then they _have_ to go back."

Angel pouted, then brightened. "Frogs are having a sleepover!"

Jeb didn't try to hide his smile. "Yes, the frogs are having a sleepover."

"Then they can come back!"

I bit my tongue. "Maybe."

"We're gonna watch movies and play dress up!" Angel said excitedly.

And then we all burst out laughing. At that moment, Fang and I caught each others' gaze. My look said _Forget about the Erasers and Jeb_. I'm not quite sure what was in his look.

I think I might know now…that was the exact look he had when he kissed me in the cave…

He had been FLIRTING WITH ME. My mouth never fails to drop open when I think back to that day.

But I can't help but laugh when I think about the frogs in the toilet.

**A/N: When in doubt, end with Fax. ****:)**** I dunno…was it horrible? Okay? Ridiculous? Review peoples, and if you sign in or leave your email in the little box thing I will give you a tiny preview of a new fanfic I'm thinking about…Jeans, when Iggy blows up Max's pants. If anyone out there can tell me what book it's mentioned in and/or what page it's on, it would be greatly appreciated! Thanks! **


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